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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704400">All It Is Is Eight Letters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincessem/pseuds/spaceprincessem'>spaceprincessem</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Alive Allison, Alive Body, Alive Erica, Alpha Derek, Angst, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale is a Nice Thing, Hale Pack, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:54:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincessem/pseuds/spaceprincessem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There had been plenty of things over the years that had taken Derek down, broken him to his core, unforgiving and merciless. There was always some sort of darkness, some threat looming around the corner, but he could face those a thousand times over because he had faced them before and came out the victor.</p><p>Who knew his undoing would be a simple cup of coffee?</p><p>Or five times Derek stopped himself from saying "I love you" and the one time he didn't.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale &amp; Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Sterek the good stuff</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>All It Is Is Eight Letters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1.</p><p> </p><p>Derek could feel his jaw aching from how hard he was clenching his teeth, his fingers curling into tight fists as his claws dug into the soft skin of his palm. He could feel the blood, hot and thick, pooling beneath his nails as he had to bite back the snarl that was climbing its way up his throat. Stiles was so fucking <em> infuriating </em> . No one could get under Derek’s skin quite like Stiles could. Derek hadn’t even known <em> when </em> that happened. Sure, as the Alpha he was supposed to care for his pack, look out for them, but they weren’t to come any closer than Derek would allow. They all skirted the edge of his guarded walls, tiptoeing the line of knowing, but not knowing Derek. Somehow, some <em> fucking </em> way Stiles had slipped in without Derek noticing. It was his own fault. He should have been more vigilant, more aware that the boy with the amber eyes and bright smile was chipping away at the Alpha’s armour, creating a crack that was like an unwanted invitation into Derek’s heart. </p><p>So here Derek was, facing down the one person who had somehow seen right through every bullshit lie, every dark and dangerous corner of his mind, his heart, and decided to stay anyway. </p><p>But Stiles was human. Fragile. Easily broken in the wrong - or right - hands. Derek had lost so much already that he was practically clinging to this last little bit of <em> something </em> , wanting to keep it safe, protected, <em> his. </em></p><p>“You can’t sideline me, Derek!” Stiles growled out, hands flinging in the air, body trembling from the anger that was white hot and burning.</p><p>“I’m your Alpha,” Derek’s low voice retorted, eyes flashing red, “I can do what I damn well please.”</p><p>That only made Stiles angrier.</p><p>“Oh no, asshole,” Stiles spat as he shoved a finger into Derek’s chest, “you don’t get to pull that <em> bullshit </em> with me!”</p><p>“It’s not up for debate.” Derek said, trying to force as much finality into his voice as possible. </p><p>But Stiles wouldn’t have it. Stiles would never back down when it came to his friends rushing into danger. And Derek <em> hated </em>it. He had never met someone as self sacrificing as Stiles and it shook Derek to his very core. He couldn’t lose Stiles. He just couldn’t.</p><p>“You’re right,” Stiles said as he crossed his arms over his chest, “it’s not because I’m going.”</p><p>“<em> Stiles </em>.” Derek got out through gritted teeth.</p><p>“I’m fine, Sourwolf!” Stiles yelled, his voice full of exasperation. “All healed from the last big fight, I’m good to go!”</p><p>“You almost died!” Derek snarled back, fangs threatening to drop as he shook with rage.</p><p>“I did <em> not </em>!” Stiles scoffed.</p><p>“Damn it, Stiles, you’re not going!” He could hear the desperation, the pleading fear in his own voice as the words echoed through the empty loft.</p><p>“Why not?” Stiles shot back, sounding just as desperate, his arms falling to his sides.</p><p>Derek hated how the boy’s scent soured with insecurities and doubt. Like Stiles didn’t think he was strong enough or good enough to be pack. He wasn’t weak, Derek knew that, but Derek also couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to Stiles that he couldn’t fix. Somehow they had survived it all, but Derek was beginning to wonder when their luck would run out. Didn’t Stiles understand that? Didn’t Stiles realize Derek was just trying to keep him alive?</p><p>“Because!” Derek heard himself say.</p><p>“Because why?” Stiles pressed forward, always pushing, always wanting more.</p><p>“Because…”</p><p>
  <em> Because I love you </em>
</p><p>Derek could taste the blood in his mouth now as he bit down on his tongue, hard. The words had been clawing their way up his throat, without permission, without reservation. He couldn’t let them go, because he hadn’t even realized how hard he had actually fallen. It was like a swift punch to the gut, leaving him breathless and a little dizzy. </p><p>He was in love with Stiles.</p><p>Derek felt his world tilting on its axis and he wondered how he was still standing. He knew Stiles had picked up on something, because now he could taste the tingling sensation of nervousness and vulnerability. The amber eyes were wider, beautifully soft lips parted, and he was so much closer than before, fingers reaching out in the space between them.</p><p>“Because why, Derek?” His voice was barely above a whisper.</p><p>Derek shook his head, a shiver running down his spine as cool fingers met his molten hot skin. He couldn’t say it. He <em> wouldn’t </em> say it because that would make it real. If it was real then it would be used against him. If it was real then it could be taken away. If it was real…</p><p>“Just - just stay close to Scott.” Derek said as he swallowed the lump in his throat. </p><p>He needed to get out of there, fast. He watched as Stiles’ fingers curled into the sleeve of his hoodie, eyes still searching Derek’s face for an answer he would never get. Derek expected Stiles to pull away, waiting for the air to stink of rejection and pain, but there was the smallest hint of a smile curling into the corners of Stiles’ face. That, more than anything, made Derek’s heart shatter. Because he wanted to lean forward and press his lips to those corners, to inhale the warm scent of vanilla and cinnamon and pine. He wanted to leave his marks, letting everyone know how much Stiles was wanted, was loved, was his. </p><p>“Okay, Sourwolf,” Stiles said with a small nod of his head, “whatever you say.”</p><p>There was no fight, no more lashes of angry words. Just quiet acceptance as Stiles gave Derek a gentle squeeze on his wrist, like some understanding had befallen the boy in the few minutes Derek had his world turned upside down. Derek watched him go, wondering how the fuck he didn’t realize he had fallen in love with Stiles in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>2.</p><p> </p><p>Derek was reading on the couch when he heard the loft door slide open. He could hear the rapid heartbeat, the air stirring with nerves, bouncing energy and warm vanilla that could only be Stiles. Derek could already feel his cheeks blushing as he pushed the book further up his face, needing a moment to gather himself before he faced those whiskey eyes and impish grin that usually accompanied the boy that had completely stolen his heart. It had been a few weeks since his life altering discovery of his own secret feelings. He oscillated between drowning in the absolute panic of being in love with Stiles and flying on the high that was threatening to burst from his chest every time he thought about kissing him, taking him for his own. </p><p>He had tried to keep away for all of two days before he realized that it would be impossible to push Stiles away. His wolf howled and whined, needing to be close to the one person who smelled like hope, and happiness, and home. Derek figured that he could love Stiles quietly, privately, from afar. </p><p>“Hey Sourwolf,” Stiles said brightly as he popped down on the couch, right next to Derek, right in his <em> fucking </em> space, “how’s it going?”</p><p>Derek cleared his throat, working to hide the stupid smile that somehow found a permanent home on his face whenever Stiles walked into the room like he was the fucking sun. </p><p>“Hello, Stiles.” Derek finally said as he placed the book down on the table, mastering his face into his usual casual indifference he was so well known for. “What do you want?”</p><p>Stiles was never deterred by his grumpy demeanor, still smiling like he saw right through Derek - <em> which, he fucking did </em> - tongue darting out to lick his lips (Derek did <em> not </em> watch that thank you very much).</p><p>“Are you busy Saturday morning?” Stiles asked all innocent like, eyes wide, but Derek could hear the flutter of his nervous heartbeat.</p><p>“Why?” Derek asked carefully, breath hitching in his throat.</p><p>He had tried to be careful, loving Stiles from afar. He knew he had slipped a few times, fingers lingering against the small of the boy’s back longer than necessary. Wondering eyes and soft smiles reserved just for the two of them. Derek realized how easy it would be, just to let himself fall completely into Stiles, but everytime he let his foot slide over the edge he jerked back, suddenly terrified of where he would land.</p><p>Stiles rubbed the back of his neck as it turned the lightest shade of pink that Derek wanted to chase with his tongue. “So, don’t laugh,” he said huffing out air, “but I kind of have this big National Chess Championship coming up this weekend and I wanted to know if you would come and, you know, support me.”</p><p>Derek blinked, not sure if he heard Stiles correctly. Did he just say he was going to a national championship chess game? Stiles played chess? Stiles played chess well enough to be in the running for a championship? Maybe he didn’t know Stiles as well as he thought he did.</p><p>“I didn’t know you played.” He said with a frown, disappointed in himself for not paying closer attention.</p><p>“Well,” Stiles said looking embarrassed, “no one really knows except for Scott and Lydia, oh and my dad.”</p><p>“Why haven’t you told us this before?” Derek asked. </p><p>When the hell did Stiles even find the time to play chess? Between being one of the top students in the school, running with a werewolf pack, playing lacrosse, and doing supernatural research he somehow managed to make it to a national competition? God Derek thought he couldn’t love Stiles anymore, and yet, the boy always kept him on his toes.</p><p>“I’m already kind of a super nerd at school and I don’t really need to give people anymore reason to make fun of me.” Stiles said with a small shrug. “What with my ADHD, loud mouth, and spastic behavior.”</p><p>Derek growled, eyes flashing slightly. How dare anyone make fun of Stiles. He wanted names and he wanted them right now. “Lydia is the biggest nerd with all of her extracurricular activities and grade point average.” He argued.</p><p>“Lydia is also the <em> hottest </em> person at school and has a look that would kill a man for even thinking of making fun of her.” Stiles replied with a wave of his hand.</p><p>Derek opened his mouth to say that Stiles was the most beautiful person Derek had ever laid eyes on. How could people not love his milk white skin, constellation of moles, long lashes fanning his gorgeous amber eyes, and infectious smile? Derek couldn’t get enough of it. He sometimes felt like he could stare at Stiles forever and still never get tired of looking. He firmly snapped his lips shut before all of that came spilling out, though.</p><p>“You don’t have to,” Stiles said quickly when Derek had remained silent for far too long, “if it seems too boring. It’s just that Scott has a big lacrosse game that he definitely can’t miss, state qualifying round an hour away, and Lydia is doing a college visit. My dad is working on a really big case and can’t get the day off. Melissa said she would come, but it’s her only day off this weekend and she’s been exhausted, so I would rather her catch up on some sleep.”</p><p>Stiles was talking fast, fiddling with his hands, eyes casted down on his lap. Derek reached over, grabbing them.</p><p>“I’d love to come.” Derek said quickly, before Stiles could say anymore negative comments about how it wasn’t important or a big deal, because it was, it really was. </p><p>“Really?” Stiles asked, eyes wide and hopeful.</p><p>“Of course,” Derek said with a small nod of his head, trying not to drown in the sugar sweet scent that was practically saturating the air, “if it’s important to you, then I want to support you.”</p><p>Stiles merely beamed and Derek felt like he was, once again, staring into the sun.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>The championship was way more packed than Derek thought it would be. The auditorium stands almost filled to capacity, as excitement buzzed in the air. Derek had been to championship games back in his high school days, but never anything like this. While basketball and lacrosse were a constant sea of noise - cheers, screams, boos - all of the tension and anticipation clung to the air. Derek had picked Stiles up early Saturday morning, the two of them getting breakfast together before heading over to begin the day. </p><p>Derek didn’t know what to expect when watching Stiles take his turn for his first game, but it was actually really thrilling. He could practically see the sparkle in those amber orbs when he figured out his opponent’s move, long fingers wrapping around the chess pieces with careful practice. He wasn’t used to seeing Stiles so quiet, so focused, but he was completely captivated. </p><p>And Stiles was good.</p><p>There were nine rounds that led to the final match, and Derek watched, completely enamored with each game Stiles played. After every win Stiles would find him in the crowd, giving him a pleased grin, eyes crinkling in the corners, making Derek’s heart swell. He couldn’t help, but smile in return, his bunny teeth on full display. During the final match Derek sat on the edge of his seat, eyes on Stiles’ face. He could see Stiles pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, tongue poking out in fierce concentration. It took all of Derek’s willpower not to get up and kiss Stiles right there in the middle of the game.</p><p>But god did he want to. </p><p>The feeling only grew stronger, overwhelming so, as Stiles sat up straight, a broad grin filling his lips as he moved his knight into place before saying the word, “Checkmate.” Even over the roar of the cheering crowd Derek could hear his heart pounding out of his chest as Stiles turned to find him. Derek blinked and suddenly Stiles was there and without thinking Derek took Stiles into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest.</p><p>And it was there, sitting on the edge of his tongue, begging to be whispered against Stiles’ skin.</p><p>
  <em> I love you </em>
</p><p>But, Derek wouldn’t let those words come out. Not yet. Maybe not ever. It was still too much, too close to being real that Derek buried them deep down where they belonged. </p><p>“I’m proud of you.” Derek managed instead.</p><p>Because that was safe. Safe and true. Stiles only hummed in contentment into Derek’s shoulder, fingers digging into his back, holding him a little bit closer.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>3.</p><p> </p><p>Derek knew something was wrong from the moment Stiles had walked into the loft. It was almost hard to tell, because he was smiling and joking with Scott and Erica as the group marched in, armed with snacks and pizza for their pack movie night. Derek narrowed his eyes, wondering why there was a nagging feeling pulling at the base of his spine, a hard twist in his gut, as he regarded the boy who was usually so bright, so full of warmth. When he inhaled there were still the hints of cinnamon and vanilla, but they were darkened by sadness and self hatred. Derek nearly choked on it. When he looked again he noticed the smile didn’t fully reach Stiles’ eyes and he was more drawn into himself, arms wrapped around his middle.</p><p>During the movie he sat curled into one of the arm chairs, eyes glossed over, like he wasn’t paying attention. All Derek could do was frown, his inner wolf whining deeply as he watched Stiles sit in misery, while the rest of the pack sat cuddled together. It took Derek a moment to realize he and Stiles were the only two people not wrapped around a significant other. Erica was sitting in Boyd’s lap, Jackson had his arm around Lydia’s shoulder, Isaac had his head in Allison’s lap while she played with his hair, and of course Scott and Kira were snuggled close against each other on the floor. Derek had always accepted that he would probably end up alone, since he was too afraid to ever admit his feelings, but now he could see just how lonely Stiles was too.</p><p>Stiles would tease his friends, but he was always genuinely happy for them. He knew it was hard to be one of the only members of the pack that didn’t have someone. Derek had been aware of Stiles’ self doubts, could smell them come creeping in every now and then and he wished, more than anything, that he could take them all away. How could they not see how amazing Stiles was? He was smart, kind, loyal, always there to lend a helping hand or to cheer someone up when they were down and Stiles was <em> gorgeous </em>. Really, the rest of the world was just missing out.</p><p>“Ladies,” Erica said with a grin as she stood up from Boyd’s lap, “are we still on for prom dress shopping tomorrow?”</p><p>And that was all Derek needed to hear to understand why Stiles was so upset. It was their senior year, and senior prom was one of their last, big nights to be normal high school teenagers. Derek could feel the excitement buzzing around the room as the girls chatted about shopping and the boys talking about where they should all go to dinner. Except for Stiles. He was busy gathering up all of the trash, moving towards the kitchen to start cleaning up. Derek only saw Scott shoot a concerned look towards his best friend before Kira was wrapping herself around his waist. He bid the pack goodnight and moved to the kitchen where Stiles was slowly washing the dishes.</p><p>“I can finish cleaning up, Stiles.” Derek said quietly as he stopped by Stiles’ side.</p><p>“No need, Sourwolf,” Stiles replied with a forced smile, trying to keep his voice steady, “I’m almost done.”</p><p>Derek tried to ignore his trembling hands as he grabbed a towel, drying the freshly cleaned dishes. They worked in silence for a few moments, Derek desperately searching for those smells of pine, vanilla, and cinnamon. The longer they worked, the more Stiles’ insecurities and self loathing soured the air. Derek couldn’t stand it anymore and he nearly bolted from the room when Stiles’ voice caught him off guard.</p><p>“Does it ever bother you?”</p><p>His voice was so small, so broken that Derek wondered if he had even spoken at all. He set the towel down, slowly turning so he was facing the boy who was so hunched into himself. Derek felt his chest aching at seeing Stiles like this.</p><p>“Does what bother me?” He asked, despite already knowing the answer.</p><p>Stiles shook his head, eyes clenched shut. “Never mind, it’s stupid. I shouldn’t complain.”</p><p>“Stiles…” Derek said as he reached out a hand to take Stiles’ own.</p><p>He gently uncurled the boy’s fingers, thumb running against the crescent moon shape marks that were embedded into Stiles’ palms. There was the slightest tint of red and Derek didn’t hesitate as the faintest black lines ran up his veins.</p><p>“It’s not stupid.” He said as he looked up, grey-green eyes meeting amber gold.</p><p>“I just-” Stiles started and tears filled his eyes as he tried desperately to blink them back, “it’s hard sometimes, seeing everyone so happy. I feel selfish because I look at the pack and I want that,” he let out a hollow laugh, “but, it’s not like anyone really wants to jump on the Stilinski train or anything.”</p><p>He pulled his hands from Derek’s grasp, hastily wiping at his eyes. Derek felt his stomach twist, his heart dropping into his feet.</p><p>“I guess I can’t blame them.” Stiles said with a shrug, like he was fighting for indifference, but the waver in his voice told a different story. “Who would want to date someone like me?”</p><p>“Stiles...” Derek said, reaching out for him again, because he couldn’t stand seeing him like this. His wolf howled in his chest, needing to comfort, needing to take the pain away.</p><p>“And it’s over prom too!” Stiles half laughed, half sobbed, scrubbing his face, his thumb pulling harshly at his lips. “How fucking stupid is that? So many more important things out there and I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself because I’m going to be alone for-”</p><p>“I’ll go to prom with you.”</p><p>It catches both of them off guard and for a moment they just look at each other, eyes wide, air coiling hot and heavy between them.</p><p>“What?” Stiles finally asks, but it is so soft that Derek could barely hear it with his werewolf sense.</p><p>“Prom.” Derek says again, because fuck does he ever want to see Stiles dressed up in a suit, pressed against him on the dance floor, head on his shoulder as they sway together. “With you. I want to go to prom with you.”</p><p>Stiles’ eyes narrow for a moment, like he was trying to listen for a flutter in Derek’s heart, trying to hear a lie that’s not there. Stiles didn’t need werewolf hearing to know when Derek was lying. His face softened, warm vanilla swirling in the space between them, and Derek could feel himself slipping into dangerous territory, but he didn’t look away.</p><p>“Why?” Stiles asked. </p><p>He was trying to fit a smile, but it was curling against his lips and god <em> oh god </em> did Derek want to kiss that smile. He would do anything, <em> anything </em>, to see that look on Stiles’ face for the rest of his life. It was unfair how Stiles could take Derek apart with just one look. No one had ever done that before, not even Paige. </p><p>
  <em> Because I love you </em>
</p><p>It was always there, waiting for the right moment, waiting for the chance to escape, poised at the cliff’s edge, diving head first into the unknown. It was always a fight, to rein in those stupid words because it was getting harder not to say them, but Derek was a fighter, a stubborn one at that. So he took in a deep breath, swallowing down the eight letters that would be his doom.</p><p>“I want to make you happy.” </p><p>That was close enough, right? It was almost the same thing. The deep growl in his chest argued, <em> no </em>, but he ignored it as he kept his eyes on Stiles’ face.</p><p>Stiles’ was grinning now. “God you are going to look so hot in a tux, Sourwolf!”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>4.</p><p> </p><p>The loft smelled heavenly. It wasn’t just the sweet smells of Stiles invading his sense as he moved inside, his betas right at his heels. The cinnamon, and pine, and vanilla had taken up a permanent residence in Derek’s loft, one he would never get tired of breathing in deeply when he was alone. Now it mixed with the scents of ginger, chocolate, fresh baked cookies, tangy fruits, and all around sugary goodness that set every single mouth watering as the wolves all crowded in the kitchen. They had just returned from a long morning of training to find Stiles and Lydia in the kitchen, dozens of cookies and treats taking up all of the space on the counter.</p><p>“Holy mother of god.” Erica said as her eyes hungrily ran over the assortment, wondering what she should try first.</p><p>“All Stiles.” Lydia said as she pointed a perfectly manicured finger in the direction of the boy pulling yet another tray full of goodies out of the oven.</p><p>“Don’t sell yourself short, Lydia,” Stiles says with a bright grin as he eases the tray down on a cooling rack, “you were an amazing taste tester.”</p><p>He smacks at Isaac’s hand, the latter reaching out for some jam filled cookie.</p><p>“That’s apricot,” Stiles chides gently, “you’re allergic, here these are for you.”</p><p>He passes Isaac, who had grown sullen and cross, a plate of brownies, the beta immediately perking up as he takes one, shoving the whole thing in his mouth. All Derek can make out is what he thinks is a “thank you” before Isaac promptly takes three more brownies off the plate before anyone can stop him. Stiles points out all of the treats on the table and Derek is impressed there is something for everyone. Chocolate chip cookies for Scott, gingerbread for Boyd, Hershey kiss peanut butter cookies for Erica, the apricot jam ones for Kira, chocolate caramel bars for Allison, and lemon bars for Jackson.</p><p>“Jackson,” Isaac teased, stuffing yet another brownie into his mouth, “I never thought you would be into lemon bars.”</p><p>Jackson only shoved his middle finger in the air as he reached out, taking the delicate item into his hand like it was a precious gift. He sniffed at it suspiciously before taking a small bite. The pack began to cackle as a small moan escaped his lips.</p><p>“Fuck, Stilinski,” Jackson said after a moment, “these are delicious.”</p><p>Stiles made a small bow, his shit eating grin covering his entire face. “Why thank you, thank you.”</p><p>“Who knew you could bake so well.” Erica said as she tried to snatch one of Boyd’s cookies, but he just batted her hand away, causing her to frown.</p><p>“Stiles and I used to make cookies all the time growing up.” Scott said with a big smile as he broke one of his cookies in half, giving the bigger piece to his best friend. “Well, I mostly mixed whenever Stiles told me to, but I did help when it came to eating them!”</p><p>“You were a great sous-chef,” Stiles said as he licked chocolate off of his lips, “and way more helpful than Lydia.” He teased causing the strawberry blonde to just roll her eyes.</p><p>The pack filled up their plates, sharing their favorite desserts before moving out into the living room to enjoy their snacks. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, pulling him into the kitchen, a mischievous grin on his face. Derek only cocked an eyebrow, but let himself be dragged back towards the stove, where the cookies Stiles had been making earlier were cooling.</p><p>Ever since prom night something had changed between them. They weren’t quite dating, but they weren’t just friends either. It was like being stuck in no man’s land, walking the line of dream and reality. Derek was a firm believer in staying in the dream, because like most things, reality would just ruin it all. Of course it was never enough to just have some of Stiles, but Derek could live with that. It was better than not having him at all, or so he told himself to keep the ache in his chest to a minimum.</p><p>“I didn’t want the pack getting any of these, considering how special they are.” Stiles said as he motioned to the cookies on the cooling rack.</p><p>Derek felt his heart leap into his throat, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. To anyone else in the pack they would look like ordinary snickerdoodle cookies, nothing special, nothing that would set them apart from the other treats lined on the counter. But to Derek, <em> to Derek </em>, they were a reminder of a time before the fire. They were Christmas mornings gathered around the tree, Laura forcing him into an ugly sweater and Cora taking obnoxious pictures with her new camera. They were late nights with his mother after a terrible day at school with two glasses of milk and warm hugs to remind him that everything would be okay. They were a sweet surprise after a long day of running through the preserve, shared on the porch as his father told stories about things that had long passed. They were pieces of home and family lost, but never forgotten. </p><p>“I, uh,” Stiles said as he pulled a worn piece of paper from his pocket, folding it open to show delicate handwriting written in faded, blue ink, “followed her recipe exactly.”</p><p>Derek reached out for the paper with shaking hands, fingers tracing over the curl of her “g” like it was a long, lost secret he had been searching for.</p><p>“How did you find this?” Derek whispered, his eyes still moving over the beautiful cursive letters of Talia Hale.</p><p>“Peter actually had a few books he recovered from the fire.” Stiles said with a sheepish grin. “I had to bribe him with a few whiskey pecan bars before he handed them over, but I’m pretty stubborn.”</p><p>Derek looked up at Stiles like he was seeing him for the first time. Now it was a burning desire, fighting its way through its chest, needing to be said because if it wasn’t then maybe Derek would die.</p><p>
  <em> I love you I love you I love you </em>
</p><p>It repeated over and over again in his mind, but as he opened his mouth the words wouldn’t come out because nothing was permanent and that was terrifying. He had loved his mother and she had gone up in flames, leaving behind a dying legacy, three broken Hales, and a handful of recipes that felt like happiness and guilt in his hands. He reminded himself he couldn’t say them because it couldn’t be real. The universe was always listening, always watching, always waiting for Derek to slip up and give it a reason to torture him again. </p><p>So he grabbed a cookie, shoving it into his mouth, hating how perfectly amazing they were. He gave Stiles a smile and when the boy turned to join their friends Derek choked down the rest of the cookie, taking those stupid eight letters with it.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>5.</p><p> </p><p>He was suddenly out of chances. Out of time. He should have known better than to try and hide because, eventually, all of his secrets came tumbling out for someone to find.</p><p>“D-Derek…”</p><p>“I’m here, Stiles…” Derek choked out as he held onto the human’s hand, black ink seeping up his veins, the pain overwhelming, but nothing, nothing compared to what Stiles was feeling.</p><p>“I’m always saving your life, Sourwolf.”</p><p>He tried for a grin, but blood just spilled over his lips, only to be washed away by the gentle splash of rain falling from the darkening sky. </p><p>Too late. Too late. Too late.</p><p>“I need to tell Derek-” Stiles began.</p><p>“I’m here, Stiles.” Derek repeated, but the light was already fading from the amber eyes. “Stiles, I’m here, please, Stiles…”</p><p>“Tell Derek…” Stiles murmured, eyes fluttering close, heart rate slowing until it was almost gone.</p><p>And even then, when it was all lost, all gone Derek still couldn’t say the one thing he wanted to most. Because now it didn’t matter, would never matter, even if it was the last thing Stiles heard. It was painful. Too fucking painful and Derek was a goddamn coward. He had kept it secret, kept it safe, but Death did what it always did best. </p><p>It takes and it takes and it takes. </p><p>And now the words were caught in his throat, no longer threatening to give into the fall because the cliff and the whole fucking world had just ripped from beneath his feet. And now they would be stuck, a terrible reminded of all the times he could have lived, for just one moment. They were just three fucking words. Eight fucking letters and Derek just couldn’t fucking say them.</p><p>
  <em> I love you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Maybe, instead of the universe taking everything away, it was just giving him one more goddamn chance to be happy. </p><p>Because Stiles had survived.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>+1</p><p> </p><p>There had been plenty of things over the years that had taken Derek down, broken him to his core, unforgiving and merciless. There was always some sort of darkness, some threat looming around the corner, but he could face those a thousand times over because he had faced them before and came out the victor.</p><p>Who knew his undoing would be a simple cup of coffee?</p><p>Stiles smiled as he laid the steaming mug down, fingers brushing over Derek’s shoulder. Derek quickly caught them in his own, bringing them to his lips without thinking.</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>He was still holding Stiles’ hand, lips moving across the trembling fingers before he realized what he had said. He froze in his chair, not daring to turn and look at the boy whose heart was like a steady beating drum. He had said them. He had said them without thinking. They had just come out, all on their own, tired of waiting for Derek to take the plunge. Now it was real, but honestly, it had been real all along and he was a fool for thinking otherwise.</p><p>“I love you too, Sourwolf.”</p><p>Derek’s head snapped in Stiles’ direction, but he was met with a gentle expression, a soft smile, a beautiful hint of gold flickering in his favorite pair of amber eyes. He was so used to Stiles being the sun. Too bright, threatening to swallow Derek whole, but now, looking at him, Stiles was suddenly the Moon. </p><p>And Derek could howl forever.</p><p>“Just like that?” He asked as Stiles’ hands moved to cup his cheeks.</p><p>“Just like that.” Stiles said with a small nod of his head.</p><p>“Then I love,” he said as he pulled Stiles closer, kissing his forehead, “I love you,” his lips moved to his cheeks, “I love you,” as Stiles’ eyes fluttered closed he place a gentle kiss on each lid, “I love you,” he breathed before pausing at Stiles’ lips. “I love you.”</p><p>Their lips met in a slow, sweet kiss. Derek breathed him in, tongue swiping against the inside of Stiles, like he could memorize every inch of him, memorize how he tasted, and how he sounded, a low moan chasing Derek’s tongue.</p><p>
  <em> I love you </em>
</p><p>Derek said it over and over again, until it was practically written in the milk white skin, until Stiles was kissing him harder, until they were just three words. Until they were just eight letters. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I feel like I've kind of been in a rut, writing wise, so it was nice to finish this one relatively quickly. It kind of started based on the last scene with the coffee cup and I've always wanted to do a 5+1 thing story, so yay! A little angsty, but always a happy ending. Let me know your thoughts!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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